Oblivion
by MountainAir
Summary: "The numbness carried on, and the air felt cold. The silence bit at his heart. He needed her. She needed him. But they had no way of seeing this." Katniss and Gale after Mockingjay. One-shot.


_Xx. They're miles apart, but in their hearts so close. xX_

The girl with the dark hair and gray eyes laid in her bedroom, staring at the ceiling and imagining it opening up to reveal the starry night sky. She imagined the way the glowing specks would illuminate the sky and turn something so dark into something bright with lights. She used to see it as one of the most beautiful things in the world, one of the most peaceful things to look at, especially when she saw it as she lay on the forest floor. But after being slammed into by harsh reality, she only saw it as something that should not be in a world so unworthy of its beauty. It shouldn't be in a world where so many things lay crippled around her.

Her mind's imagination closed itself off and she was left staring at the ceiling again. It looked boring compared to the beautiful image she'd conjured in her head, but she didn't mind. In fact, she looked at it with longing, wishing she lived in a world where everything were as simple as the walls that surrounded her. They were plain. They were dreary. And unlike herself, they had no cracks in them. Their colours were pure and untouched, as if they were painted just yesturday, although she knew they weren't.

She, on the other hand, was so scarred by the war that her skin was blotchy all over, and she was sure her heart had more cracks in it than the oldest, most hard done by walls in all of Panem.

She felt broken, and she felt alone. Everything she'd fought for, everything she'd strived to achieve, had backfired. The rebellion she had started was meant to free them into a world of peace and serenity, one where they could do whatever they wished with whomever they wished. But she supposed that was an unrealistic dream to have in the first place; people die in wars, and there's nothing she could have done to prevent it - it was an unescapable debt that had to be paid.

Slowly, shakily, the girl brushed her fingers along the pillow next to her. It was unoccupied, empty. Cold from being untouched for so long - months even. The boy that used to lie here with her was gone from her grasp forever, ripped away from her like so many others. She choked back a sob.

The warm hands that used to hold hers, the hands that used to caress her face and pull her closer, were gone. She'd never have him close to her again. She was bound to a life of loneliness and grief, should she have enough willpower to stay alive much longer. With nothing left to live for, she saw no reason to keep going at all...

Hundreds of miles away, in a house worthy of a millionaire, sat the dark haired, gray eyed boy. He looked out the window at the passerbys, smiling and holding hands. He wanted to feel happiness for their joy, or even pride for helping achieve it. But instead, he felt nothing but numbness. While he should be smiling and holding hands with his own girl, he was left sitting alone in a house he scarcely even wanted in the first place. He was left sitting by the window, wishing there were another, smaller body next to his to keep him company and make his pain go away. His only salvation was missing, and he felt broken.

The boy brushed his fingers along the window's surface, looking at his own reflection in its center. His body was slunched and his eyes looked lifeless, but he showed no reaction as he saw this. The numbness carried on, and the air felt cold. The silence bit at his heart.

He needed her.

She needed him.

But they had no way of seeing this. The girl was sure he's found another woman to love, one who was beautiful and stable; two things she could never be to him again. The boy was sure she'd settled down with the baker's son, maybe even with children of their own.

She didn't know that he could never love anyone but her. He didn't know that she could never love anyone but him.

Those who were lost looked down at the two in sorrow, wishing one or the other would realize what was missing. Surely, after all of the years they'd known eachother, they'd be able to figure out that in the end, it was him she couldn't live without. It had always been him.

She was his. He was hers. Anything else was unthinkable.

Unfortunately, their own oblivion was what kept them both in the dark. Their own oblivion was what made the ache in their chests increase and the hollowness in hearts deepen. He wished for her and she wished for him, but the miles dividing them became more and more prominent. Neither was brave enough to close the distance, both thinking they were unworthy of the other's love after the crimes they've commited.

They were wrong, but only the ones watching from above could see it.


End file.
